Prunella Scales's dementia is so bad she forgot show she'd just seen
Taken decades apart but with the same adoration on show, these photos are a testament to the lasting love between Timothy West and Prunella Scales. And all the more touching is that their devotion to one another in the recent shots comes despite Miss Scales' life becoming 'narrower by the day' at the hands of dementia. Viewers of the Great Canal Journeys have been granted a rare insight into how the Fawlty Towers actress, 83, is coping with the condition, and have hailed her an 'inspiration' for choosing to co-host the show. Scroll down for video. Close: Some of the photographs showed the couple's children, who are now adults, as youngsters. Quiet moments: The photos show how their love has remained as strong as it was when they first married. They have also been taken inside the couple's family photo albums, with old photos showing how their love has remained as strong as it was when they were first married.
Prunella Scales nude
The Wicked Lady Though his enormous celebrity, his Winner's Dinners and calm down dear it's a commercial did wonders in obscuring the fact, never let it be forgotten that Michael Winner was a bad film director. Not bad in the sense that one objects to his mise-en-scene, or believe his symbolism to be overly contrived; no, not even bad in the sense that his films were morally repugnant and could drain you of all faith in humanity and leave you a dried out husk. They were and they did, but that's largely incidental. They were bad in the sense of being inept, being amateurish, being hard to believe he had ever done this before in his life. Watching his remake of a Gainsborough Studio romp it beggars belief that he'd been doing this for more than two decades, that he actually held a position of some prominense in the film industry.
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A s Prunella Scales and Timothy West puttered in their canal boat at 4mph towards Devizes, summery Somerset has never looked better. The lushness was outrageous, the stone bridges mellowed by the sun, and not even the occasional bloke on the towpath who had gone topless, the better to advertise his beer gut, could spoil the view. It was 24 years since the couple had made this journey. In the Kennet and Avon Canal had just been reopened after being saved from dereliction by, West explained, volunteers, boy scouts and convicts. And now, in the year of their golden wedding, the couple wer e returning — perhaps for the last time, said West, his voice descending an octave, the gentle old bear's perma-frown deepening.
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